Lessons
by N'kala
Summary: Charlie finds that even teachers must learn some lessons.
1. Chapter One

Title: Lessons  
Author: N'kala99  
Disclaimer: They aren't mine.  
Summary: Charlie finds that even teachers must learn some lessons.  
Author's Notes: I'm a teacher, and went through an experience similar to the one that I put Charlie through. Though it may seem somewhat tame to someone not in the education field, this situation seriously bothered me for several weeks. See the end of the story for more notes on this situation. 

LESSONS

Chapter One

" . . . review the chapter and be ready for a pop quiz on Monday." Charlie Eppes grinned up at his students as they began to pack up their belongings and move out of the room, each tossing a smile and a farewell to the young professor.

Charlie's smile softened as Kyle Preston approached his desk. The young man was one of Charlie's most promising students, and could easily be in the top if he learned a little more self-discipline. Kyle, though, seemed to enjoy working with Charlie. He frequently stopped by Charlie's desk on his way out of the class to chat a little about the topic they had discussed that day.

"Hi, Kyle," Charlie greeted warmly. "Do you have any questions about today's lesson?"

Kyle shrugged, smiling slightly. "Nah, not really, professor. I was wondering, though, if you could recommend some supplemental reading for me? I'd like to study fractals a little more closely on my own."

"Sure!" Charlie pulled out a scrap piece of paper and scribbled some titles down. "Take this to the library. Eva knows where these are; she'll help you. I really think you'll like what you'll find."

Kyle's smile widened ever-so-slightly as he took the paper from Charlie. "Thanks, professor. See you Monday."

"Bye, Kyle." Charlie watched him go, feeling a warmth flood his heart. He loved working with budding mathematicians, helping them to appreciate the beauty of numbers as he did. True, many students left his class at the end of the semester with a greater understanding of math, but only a select few became truly enriched by Charlie's passion. It was those few, though, that Charlie loved finding and helping.

Charlie collected his books and moved down the hall to his office, glancing through a door as he passed at Larry. A slight smile tugged his lips. Larry was looking a little more harassed than usual as he tried to outline some topic on the board, only to be interrupted constantly by unending questions from his sharper students. Charlie moved past the door and entered his office.

He wasn't planning on staying long. He had promised to meet up with Don and his father at a diner for supper. They had made this plan a week ago with the hopes that Don's latest case, which had been a big one, would be done. Don had called the day before to claim that they were wrapping it up, which relieved the youngest Eppes to no end. He hadn't seen his brother much in that time, and he cherished every moment he got to spend with his big brother.

"Charlie?"

Charlie turned to find Vanessa Edminton standing in the doorway to his office. The sight of the school's dean of student affairs caused Charlie to pause and frown in confusion. "Dean Edminton? What can I do for you?"

Edminton stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. "I'm afraid, Charlie, that I'm not here to bear good news. Please note, however, that you are in no way in any sort of trouble. I'm just here to give you a head's up."

Charlie felt unease wash over him. Gesturing for Edminton to take a seat, he asked, "What is it?"

Edminton took the proferred seat and sighed. Focusing a strong blue gaze on the young man, she began, "I received a call earlier today from one of your students. A Kyle Preston."

Charlie's expression cleared. "Kyle? Yeah, I just spoke with him. He's a great student."

Edminton nodded absently. "Yes, well . . . Charlie, he's on the verge of lodging a complaint. Against you."

Charlie stared at Edminton for a moment, unsure whether Edminton was being serious or not. "He . . . I don't understand. He has a complaint against me? Why?"

"Not a complaint," Edminton corrected. "At least, not yet. I've spoken with him about it, and he has decided to wait for awhile to reconsider. He apparently feels that you lack the skills necessary to really reach your students, namely him, and that you assign massive amounts of work without explaining how to actually complete it."

Charlie sank into his chair, trying to wrap his head around the dean's words. A part of him refused to take her seriously. "I . . . I lack . . . I'm afraid I still don't understand."

Edminton sighed again. "Mr. Preston feels you are unapproachable. He feels he cannot come to you and ask you for help, and that the other students in your class are also struggling through the semester. He also has expressed that you have singled him out and have increased his own workload because he is having a harder time than others."

Charlie still didn't understand. He shook his head. "What?"

Edminton's expression turned to one of sympathy. "For what it's worth, Charlie, I don't believe him. You are one of our most prized alums as well as an excellent teacher. We wouldn't have hired you if we thought otherwise. What's most likely happening is Mr. Preston has an issue he needs to deal with, and the only way he knows how is this way. I'm calling a meeting with the three of us on Tuesday at noon to deal with this. Hopefully, we can come to an understanding that we can all live with. I just wanted to give you a heads up."

She stood and moved back to the door. Pausing, she turned back to look in Charlie's stunned face.

"Don't let this make you doubt yourself, Charlie," she said softly. "You're a great teacher, and I'm going to stand by you on this. Just think of it as another challenge to overcome. You've certainly had your fair share of those."

Charlie nodded numbly, barely noticing the dean exit. He acknowledged Edminton's encouragements for what they were, but his ears still rang with what Kyle had reported to her.

_Other students struggling._

_Thinks you are too unapproachable._

_Singled him out for extra work_.

A wave of nausea swelled in Charlie's stomach, which he fought down sharply. He had always prided himself on being a good teacher, on always doing right by his students. Even when some of his students were loathe to take him seriously due to his age, in the end Charlie had always won their respect. But this . . .

_Extra work_? But Kyle had always asked for the extra work! Maybe Charlie had encouraged some outside assignments, but he had always thought that Kyle liked them! Charlie had always done the same to other promising students in the past . . . did they think the same thing as Kyle? Did they feel Charlie was singling them out for some sort of misguided punishment? Was Charlie kidding himself in thinking that his students actually appreciated his classes, his lectures?

_Unapproachable?_ Okay, Charlie supposed he could buy that one. He tended to become so ensconced in a math problem that he naturally tuned out the world around him. He had tried to be more accessible lately, though. Tried to pay more attention when someone needed to talk to him. The memory of Finn Montgomery sent a sharp stab of guilt through his heart.

_The students were struggling_? Their papers and test grades had been all right. Not great, but they seemed to understand on a more than proficient level every concept he taught. Sure, there were those that always struggled, but that's what office hours were for. And Charlie had extended offers for extra tutoring, which a handful of students usually took. But was that because they were afraid to say no?

And his _teaching skills_? Charlie knew that he, at times, tended to talk over everyone's heads. It was something that Charlie had done since he was a small boy. Don certainly had no problem reining Charlie back in, bringing him back to their level of comprehension. Terry, too, had done the same. Had Charlie been teaching at a level all too difficult for his students? He ran back through lesson after lesson in his head, but was drawing a blank. He couldn't pinpoint one specific instance, but there had to be one. After all, why would Kyle lodge a complaint against him?

"Charlie!"

Charlie jumped in surprise and looked up at a pair of familiar brown eyes. "Don!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

Don was frowning slightly at his little brother. "I thought I'd swing by and pick you up on my way to the diner. CalSci is on my way, after all. What's the matter?"

"What makes you think anything's the matter?" Charlie asked, stalling.

Don gave him a curious look. "Other than the fact that I called your name several times, and that you were a million miles away? Without working on a math problem, I might add."

Charlie half-heartedly shuffled through some files. "No, I . . . nothing's the matter. Just some school stuff. I'll be ready in a sec."

"Take your time," Don replied, eyes tracing the cluttered office. "I've already put your bike in my car."

Charlie grunted in acknowledgement, his mind still swirling around his meeting with Edminton. Suddenly, Tuesday seemed like years away.

* * *

Don glanced again at his younger brother's form, noting the blank expression on his face and the glossy eyes. He knew that look; knew that it meant that Charlie was thinking about something, and that it occupied a large percentage of his incredible mind. He had noticed Charlie's distant attitude since their dinner out two days ago, but had refrained from commenting on it. Now, though, Don was becoming worried enough to ask again. Charlie had barely spoken at all in the time he'd spent with his brother, and Charlie's appetite had been greatly reduced.

Alan caught Don's eye; he had seen the worried looks Don had sent Charlie's way, and was concerned too. Even though Charlie lived with their father, Alan was just as in the dark about Charlie's problem as Don.

The baseball game they had been watching suddenly went to commercial. With a pointed glance at Don, Alan stood and said, "Well, I'm getting some more to drink. Anybody want anything while I'm gone?"

"No thanks, Dad," Don replied.

Alan nodded and turned to his youngest. "Charlie?"

Charlie gave a start, then looked up. "Uh . . . no thanks, Dad, I'm fine."

Don waited until Alan had left the room before speaking. He knew why Alan had elected him to be the one to talk to Charlie; of everyone he had ever known, Charlie could hide nothing from his big brother. He could evade and deflect conversation with masterful skill, but Don saw right through him. Don knew how to get Charlie to open up.

"So, you gonna share with me what's been bothering you?" he asked.

Charlie looked at him, blinking several times as he shifted his mind back into focus. "What do you mean?"

Charlie couldn't fool Don, but that didn't mean he never tried.

Don fixed him with a steady gaze. "You know what I mean. You've been acting distant all weekend. I know something's up; Dad and I are both worried about you. Is it that school thing you mentioned last Friday?"

Charlie thought for a moment, then nodded.

Don waited. When nothing more was forthcoming, he prompted, "And that would be . . .?"

Charlie sighed and shifted his eyes to the side. "It's nothing important, Don. Really."

"Then why are you so bothered by it?" Don pressed.

"I'm not!" Charlie insisted. At Don's deadpan stare, he quickly amended, "Okay, so I'm a little bothered. But I have a meeting on Tuesday to work it all out. It's nothing, really."

"Then you can tell me what it's all about," Don reasoned.

Charlie picked at a loose thread on the couch. "I'd rather not," he replied quietly.

Don was surprised, but quickly masked the look on his face. "Okay, Buddy. But you know I'm here if you need to talk, right?"

Charlie gave him a slight smile. "Yeah, Don. I do. Thanks."

As Don smiled back and turned back to the television, Charlie let the smile slide off of his face. He knew his brother meant well, but he wasn't a teacher. He couldn't understand how he was feeling.

And not only that; Charlie didn't want his big brother, whom he had admired all his life, to know what a bad teacher he was. What a failure he was. That, on top of everything else, would be too much for Charlie to take.

* * *

Charlie had been dreading his classes on Monday. After his talk with Edminton, he had been doubting his abilities to teach his students. This left him stammering through lesson after lesson, restating every complex equation to even his advanced students. He had received unusual looks from them all day, but no one had said a word.

Kyle was in his last class of the day. Charlie had afforded him, along with his other students, a nervous smile and had stumbled through this lesson as much as the others before it. After he had finished, the students had called their familiar farewells with confused grins. Charlie sighed and turned his back on his classroom, busying himself with erasing his blackboard.

"Professor Eppes?"

Charlie felt a jolt of nausea in his stomach at the voice, but choked it down. Wearing a rather forced smile, he turned and regarded Kyle Preston. "Yes, Kyle?"

Kyle smiled, unconcerned, at his professor. "I spent the weekend looking over those books you recommended. I thought they were really interesting, and was wondering if we could talk about them sometime."

Charlie studied Kyle, wondering if the student was truly sincere in his desire to learn more, or if he had some other motives behind his request. "Uh . . . sure, Kyle. When do you want to meet?"

"I'm free on Wednesday," Kyle volunteered. "Two o'clock?"

Charlie nodded slowly. "Sure, Kyle. Stop by my office."

"Thanks, Professor." Kyle smiled wider and walked out of class.

Charlie stared dumbly after him, wondering if he had done the right thing. If anything, he thought as he gathered his notes, he was now more confused than ever.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two 

Charlie hovered outside of Larry's office door and tapped lightly on the oaken surface, almost nervously. As much as he didn't want to talk about his difficulties with another person, Larry had the benefit of years of experience that Charlie was certain could help him.

"Charles!" Larry greeted, beckoning to him to enter. "Come in, come in. You don't usually knock. Is something the matter?"

"No," Charlie answered, stepping into the room. "Well, yes, actually. I have a problem that I was hoping you could help me with."

Larry observed his former student closely. Charlie was avoiding his eyes, glancing around the room without really seeing anything. His hands twisted in front of him, and he seemed to vibrate with some excess energy. "I take it this has nothing to do with math."

Charlie shook his head and looked down at his shoes. "No, it's about . . . um, one of my students."

Larry raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Any student in particular?"

Charlie nodded.

Larry frowned at him. "Charles, you know that, in order for me to help you, first you must present the problem."

Charlie sighed. In a halting, stammering voice, he relayed everything Edminton had told him the past Friday. Larry listened intently, not interrupting as Charlie's voice grew steadier. As if a dam had broken, Charlie's words spilled forth. He told Larry about what Kyle Preston had said and done, and he admitted the fears and concerns that had cropped up in his mind over the whole situation. He spoke for twenty solid minutes before finally falling silent, eyes still fixed firmly on his feet.

Larry paused a moment to gather his thoughts, then leaned against his desk. He folded his arms. "I see. You believe that, because one student is causing all of this turmoil for you, that you are a horrible teacher."

Charlie cringed.

Larry shook his head. "Charles, I have sat in on some of your classes, I have seen you with your students, and I have overheard your students talking about you across the campus. They love you. They admire your wealth of knowledge and enthusiasm for your field, and they truly relate to you as a person. Let me first assuage your concerns in that area: you are an excellent professor. Dean Edminton was right, and everyone would agree."

Charlie peeked cautiously up at Larry.

Larry continued. "Now, it sounds like this 'Kyle' is unhappy about something with you that you may not even be aware of. I've had students like that before, and Charles, you aren't going to please all of them. Some of your students are going to resent you. It's a matter of life. But you can't measure your abilities and skills as a teacher against just one student. From what you've said, you have done everything you can and more to reach Kyle, to help him in your class. But there's only so much you can do. Even geniuses have their limits."

A small smile blossomed on Charlie's face.

"Go to the meeting," Larry advised him. "Go in with the knowledge that you have done everything with Kyle's best interests in heart, and go in prepared to listen to his concerns. Once you have everything laid out on the table, you can move forward. But don't allow this one incident to shape your future as a teacher. If you do, then you're not only cheating yourself of a fulfilling life, but you'll be cheating your students of an exceptional teacher."

Charlie nodded, fighting back the warm flush infusing his cheeks. "Thanks, Larry. I feel better now."

"Good," Larry replied. "I'm glad I could help."

* * *

Even with Larry's uncharacteristically impassioned speech, Charlie entered the dean's office with some amount of trepidation. He wasn't quite sure what to expect, but the probabilities and statistics of possible outcomes were chasing themselves through his head.

Edminton's office was spacious and tastefully decorated. Her desk sat on one end of the room, flanked by two large bookcases filled to bursting with texts of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Pictures of the campus, of Edminton with several students, and several degrees lined the walls. A round table stood at the other end, where Edminton was currently seated. Charlie walked over to it, nodding at the dean. His tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth.

Edminton smiled. "Relax, Charlie. You look like you're about to pass out. This is just a friendly discussion."

Charlie nodded, but still didn't trust himself to speak. He sank into a nearby chair and stared firmly at the tabletop.

"You know, I've heard some rumors around the campus about you consulting for the FBI," Edminton commented, hoping to draw the young man out of his shell.

Charlie glanced up at Edminton, managed a weak smile, then looked back down at the table. "Um . . . yeah, I've been helping my brother out on a couple things. Nothing big."

"What sort of things, if you don't mind my asking?" Edminton pressed.

Charlie shrugged, but he began to relax. "Whatever my brother needs. Predictive analysis, some probabilities, things like that. It's usually numbers on fraud cases, with large amounts of money involved."

Edminton nodded, her expression one of intrigue. "I never really gave much thought about it, but I guess using mathematics to solve crimes must come in handy for the FBI."

His unease and concerns temporarily forgotten, Charlie immediately launched into a more detailed explanation of some of the cases he had helped his brother on. Though careful not to reveal any classified information, he had more than enough examples to draw from. It wasn't until Edminton glanced at the clock hanging on the wall that they realized that an hour had passed.

"Oh my goodness!" she exclaimed, interrupting Charlie's flow. "I can't believe . . . your consulting work was so fascinating, Charlie, that I've completely forgot about our conference."

Charlie looked up at the clock, startled. Confusion creased his forehead. "Where's Kyle?"

"That's a good question," Edminton replied. "I'm going to see if I can find Mr. Preston and reschedule our talk. I'll let you know the time and day. Thank you very much for coming, Charlie, and thank you for sharing some of your work outside of school with me. I enjoyed our conversation."

Charlie stood, nodding. "S-Sorry that we didn't accomplish what we set out to do," he stammered, feeling some of the old nervousness to slip back into his stomach. "I'll talk to you later."

He dimly heard Edminton's call of farewell as he exited the office and headed back down the hall. His mind swirled around this new development, wondering why Kyle had not shown up for the meeting. Possible reasons chased each other through his mind, followed closely by their probability of being true. He was just about to turn the corner and leave the building when a familiar voice in a nearby room reached his ears.

" . . . Eppes is a joke . . ."

Frowning, Charlie edged back to the room where he had heard Kyle's voice. The door was open part of the way, shielding Kyle and whomever he was talking to from his sight, but Charlie could hear the conversation quite clearly.

"Didn't you have a meeting or something with him?" a voice Charlie didn't recognize asked.

A snort filtered into the hall. "Yeah, but I had something more important to take care of. Let Professor Eppes sweat it out. The guy's not going to do anything about it."

The voice that responded was filled with doubt. "What exactly is your deal with him again?"

Charlie edged closer, anxious to hear Kyle's response.

"Professor Eppes thinks he's this great teacher, but it's ridiculous," Kyle replied. "He has no idea that everyone makes fun of him behind his back. He actually thinks we're interested in his stupid class, and those of us who are trying to do okay as math majors, he tries to make us do all this extra work. I think he thinks it's helping us out."

Charlie felt embarrassment warm his face. He didn't want to hear anymore, but on the same token, he couldn't stop himself.

"I thought Professor Eppes was popular," the voice replied.

"Sure, when compared to Fleindhart," Kyle replied derisively. "Now _there's_ a winner." The sarcasm was a sharp blade, cutting deeply into Charlie's chest. "Nah, man, Eppes is just some freak math genius who doesn't have a clue. None of the others in class know what's going on, and everyone is too embarrassed to say anything. They think they'll feel dumb, and in the shadow of a genius, who can blame them?"

Charlie finally withdrew and trudged out of the building. He didn't want to hear anymore; truth be told, he felt he had heard enough. Shame and humiliation burned on his face. He didn't even notice the calls of friendly greetings from passing students and faculty, completely absorbed in his own mind. Kyle's words echoed in his ears as he made his way to his bike.

* * *

Alan glanced up from the television as the back door closed. He waited expectantly for Charlie to appear, curious as to what had kept his youngest out longer than usual. He knew Charlie wasn't working on anything for his brother at the moment, and he was experiencing the rare lull in projects for 'friends'. Whatever the cause, Alan suspected it had something to do with Charlie's mood the last few days.

Charlie emerged from the kitchen and passed his father without so much as a glance on his way to the stairs. It wasn't until Alan had called his name twice that Charlie even turned and acknowledged his father's presence.

"Oh . . . hey, Dad," he said, his voice devoid of any emotion. "What's up?"

Alan stood and folded his arms. "I think I should be asking you that question."

Charlie merely frowned, confused. "Nothing's up with me."

Alan prayed for patience. Getting Charlie to open up took a tremendous amount of subtle skills, and Alan knew of only one person in the world capable of accomplishing such a feat. Unfortunately, she had passed on without revealing her secret to him. "Don't give me that, young man. You've been moping about the house lately, and I want to know why."

Charlie shrugged and glanced down at his feet. "No reason, really. Just some stuff going on at school. It's going to be resolved pretty quickly, though."

Alan raised his eyebrows. "Oh?"

Charlie nodded, still not meeting his father's eyes. "Yeah, I um . . . I guess now's as good a time as any to tell you . . ."

Alan waited. When it appeared as though Charlie had lost courage, he ducked to catch his son's eyes. "Tell me what?"

Charlie looked at his father, and Alan's breath was taken away at the depth of anguish he found there. "I think . . . I think I made a mistake . . . I'm resigning from my professorship at CalSci."

Whatever Charlie could have said, Alan would have never expected this. He stared dumbly at his son for a moment before finding his voice. "You . . . you're _quitting_? Charlie . . . no, you can't quit! Why would you quit? You love teaching, all your students love you."

Charlie flinched as if struck. "I-I know it seems sudden, Dad, but it's for the best, believe me. I've given it some thought. I, um, I need to . . . to go."

He turned on his heel and headed, not for the stairs as was his original destination, but out the door in the direction of the garage. Alan snapped out of his shock and reached for the phone. Something was bothering Charlie, and if Alan couldn't get him to speak, he would get someone who could.

* * *

Two hours had passed after Alan's phone call, one hour and fifty-nine minutes more than Alan would have liked, but a familiar vehicle finally pulled into his drive. Alan pounced on Don before Don managed to open the car door, his anxiousness driving his actions.

"Don, you have to talk to Charlie," he insisted. "I've been trying since I called you, and he's just tuning me out, saying it's for the best. He just keeps working on that damn 'p' thing, and I can't get him to listen to me. He'll listen to you. You've got to try."

Don held up his hands in a placating manner. "Dad, take it easy. I'll see what I can do, all right? But I can't make any promises. Look; after you called, I tracked down Larry. I figured if it has to do with this school thing he mentioned last Friday, then he would have told Larry about it."

"Did he?" Alan demanded.

Don nodded. "Yeah, he did. That's why I'm so late. I had to track down a few others. I actually brought some people with me who might be able to help."

For the first time, Alan noticed the people exiting Don's car and hovering nervously on the other side; two young men and a young woman who looked like college students. Larry was standing with them, speaking quietly. Don followed Alan's gaze and smiled softly.

"I thought that, if Charlie didn't listen to me, he would listen to some of his students," he told his father. He raised his voice. "Go on into the house and wait for me there. I'll go and get Charlie."

Larry nodded and gestured for the students to proceed him. Still worried about his son but trusting Don to handle the situation, Alan smiled and welcomed the students into his home.

Don waited until they were inside the house, then made his way to the garage. The familiar sound of chalk scratching on blackboard and the smell of the dust assaulted his senses, bringing to mind a flash of memory. Had it really been just a couple months ago when Charlie had broken down after the bank robbery that had gone south? It seemed like much longer.

"Charlie?" he called into the garage.

Charlie continued to work, not giving the slightest indication that he had heard his brother call his name. His shoulders were taut with tension, his hands trembling as they danced over the boards with a life all their own.

Unperturbed, Don moved into the garage and leaned casually against a nearby board. He ignored the chalk dust rubbing into his polo shirt, his dark eyes fixed on what he could see of his brother's face.

Charlie's eyes were fixed wholly on his numbers, but there was no mistaking the dark circles beneath them or their red rims as he fought back the glistening tears that threatened to spill. His jaw jutted forward with such force that Don knew it would ache the next day.

"Hey, Buddy, I hear you've had a rough couple days," Don tried again.

Still no response. Not even a waver in the endless stream of numbers.

Don sighed. "Larry told me what's been going on."

Charlie's face didn't react, but his hand jerked sharply over a variable he had been writing, leaving a large white line across a separate set of numbers. Making a tiny noise of frustration in the back of his throat, he quickly wiped what he could away with his hand and continued.

"Charlie, why did you keep this from us?" Don asked. "Dad and I have been worried about you. You could have come to us for help. Look . . . Charlie, put the chalk down. Look at me."

Charlie ignored him. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Don reached out for the chalk. He managed to grasp Charlie's wrist, causing Charlie to try and pull away. Don held fast, tightening his fingers and using his other hand to tug the chalk out of Charlie's resisting grip.

Charlie tried to yank his arm back, still not looking at Don. "Quit it, Don, leave me alone! I have to finish this line of thought before I lose it! Give me back my chalk!"

Don set the chalk aside out of Charlie's reach. "Not until you talk to me."

Charlie tried to reach around Don, but his brother was too strong. Charlie continued to fight against the grip around his wrist, eyes fixed on the piece of chalk he desperately wanted. "Don, this isn't funny! Let me go!"

Not bothering to respond, Don wrapped his free hand behind his little brother's head and pulled Charlie into a fierce hug. Charlie fought him, trying to wriggle away, but Don merely tightened his hold on his brother. After another minute of twisting and pushing, Charlie finally fell limply against Don, trying to muffle his tears in his brother's shoulder.

Don wasn't fooled. Finally releasing Charlie's wrist, he wrapped his arms around Charlie and hugged him. "Easy, Buddy, easy. I'm here."

When Charlie had found some semblance of control over his tears, Don led him to a nearby chair and made him sit down. Crouching down in front of him, he looked into his brother's teary eyes, concerned.

"Dad said you quit school," he stated softly. "Charlie, I've never known you to quit anything in your life. Why now?"

Charlie's eyes fell to his knees, and he toyed with a button on his shirt. "I'm not quitting . . . not really. My decision was based upon relevant data gathered over the last few days, and this was the most logical end result."

Don forced himself to not roll his eyes. "Sounds to me like you're basing this decision on faulty data, which means that your quitting would be an illogical conclusion."

Charlie stared at him in shock. Don waved his hand dismissively. "Something like that. You know what I mean. Charlie, Larry told me about that student and what he said. But he thought that your meeting with that dean today would have fixed things. Now, I don't have to be a math genius to figure out that you got some new data that made you decided to quit."

"No, just an FBI agent," Charlie muttered.

Don smirked. "Spill. What happened?"

Charlie looked over at his beloved blackboards, but Don turned his face back to him. Realizing that he was not going to be able to get back to his numbers, he heaved a great sigh. "I was walking away from the meeting . . . Kyle didn't show, and Dean Edminton said she was going to call and reschedule with him. I was walking down the hall and . . . I-I heard Kyle talking."

Don nodded, relieved that Charlie was finally opening up to him. He listened patiently as Charlie's words poured forth, carefully noting the shifting eyes and the restless fingers. When Charlie finally fell silent, the truth of the day's events out in the open, Don reached up and squeezed Charlie's shoulder.

"So you've decided to take this one student's word for it, and are going to end a promising teaching career without a fight?" Don asked softly. "Charlie, that doesn't sound like you at all."

"But he said all my students-," Charlie began to protest.

Don held up a hand, cutting him off. "I know what you're going to say, Buddy, so I'm going to stop you right there. Have you even asked these other students of yours? How do you know all of your students are thinking of you this way?"

Charlie searched Don's face, but didn't answer.

Don rocked back on his heels. "You know, something similar happened to me a while back. I had just gotten promoted to head up the office at Albuquerque, and on my first case as ASAC, there was this agent who did everything I asked. Did it all without a single complaint. We got through the case okay, not great, when my boss pulls me aside and tells me that this agent had lodged a formal complaint against me."

Charlie was listening earnestly, his dark eyes sparkling this time with curiosity rather than the tears from earlier. "He had a complaint? About what?"

"Said I didn't follow proper protocol during the arrest," Don replied easily. At the time, he had been worried, but now it was water under the bridge. "A couple agents later told me he had been bad-mouthing me behind my back. No reason; just a personality clash. I confronted the agent about it, but in the end it couldn't be resolved, and he transferred to another city. While it seemed to me that aspersions were being cast on my abilities to lead the team, in reality no one was listening to him or taking him seriously."

"But you're a good agent," Charlie pointed out.

"And you're a good teacher," Don replied. "And I think maybe it's time you listen to your other students, and not this 'Kyle'."

He stood and pulled Charlie to his feet. Ignoring his brother's questioning look, he steered Charlie out of the garage and into the house.

* * *

Alan had taken Larry and the students into the living room, where they sat comfortably with drinks. Whatever they had been discussing became quickly forgotten upon the entrance of the two Eppes brothers. Charlie stared dumbly at the familiar faces for a moment, then turned to Don. "What's going on?"

Larry stood. "Charles, forgive me. Your brother here came to school quite concerned about you, and I agreed that something more needed to be done to resolve this situation."

Charlie's eyes skimmed over the face of his friend and settled uncomfortably on his three students. He recognized them as being in the same class with him as Kyle, and he felt equal parts fear and curiosity as to what they might have to say to him.

The young man with short cut brown hair and blue eyes cleared his throat and stood. "Professor Eppes, um . . . sorry to bother you at home, but we were a little worried about you, too. We all were."

The young woman stood as well. Her dark hair cascaded over one shoulder, and she shook it back impatiently. "Yeah, Professor. What's been _with_ you these last two days? You've been acting kinda weird in class."

Charlie looked into their eyes, finding only concern and confusion. No fear, no anger, nothing that Kyle had said would be there. "I-I'm sorry if I haven't been up to my usual standards of teaching . . . it was recently brought to my attention that my, um, my classes have been too hard. I assure you, whoever will replace me will see to it -."

He was cut off by angry outcries from the three students present. The last young man jumped to his feet, pale blue irises shining with conviction through long strands of golden blond hair. "Replace you? Professor, you can't be serious!"

"I'm afraid I am, Josh," Charlie told him. "I haven't been doing everything I should have been for you or any of my students. Your education is too important for me to jeopardize."

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't leave!" the young woman insisted.

"Kate, I know it doesn't seem like the best option to you right now, but you will all be much better off if I step aside and allow someone else more qualified take over," Charlie reasoned patiently.

"More qualified than a _math genius_?" the first young man shot back, incredulous. Don stifled a snort of laughter; the kid had read his mind.

Charlie's penetrating gaze leveled on him. "Being a math genius does not automatically make me a good teacher, Luke," he explained. "I've misjudged my students, given you too much, too high expectations."

"This is about Kyle, isn't it?" Kate demanded angrily. Her cheeks flushed with the emotion. "Wait until I get my hands on him."

"You're not taking what Kyle said seriously, are you?" Luke asked. "The guy's lazy. Full of it. He wants the easy way out, and doesn't care what he has to do to keep it that way."

"Be that as it may, he raised some valid points," Charlie tried to point out. "I tend to give you quite a bit of work, and I know I can be distant when working on a math problem. You'll be better off with a real teacher."

"The only valid point Kyle raised was that he's more than capable of making an ass of himself," Luke shot back indignantly. "He doesn't speak for us, Professor!"

"Professor, listen," Josh added. "You should know something. I barely made it through my high school math classes. I couldn't understand anything my teachers taught me, and they had zero patience for someone like me. I came to CalSci and knew I had to take one math class for my major, so you know what I did? I asked around campus for someone I could take that I could actually pass.

"Everyone I asked told me the same thing. They told me to take your class, Professor Eppes." Josh's eyes were locked with Charlie's, driving his point harder. "They told me that, even though it was hard, you would be able to explain everything way better than any other professor on campus, and that you would be able to help me out if I needed it. And you know what, Professor? Math is easy for me now. It's one of my favorite classes."

Charlie felt his cheeks grow warm as the truth of his student's words sank in. He was dimly aware of the gentle squeeze Don gave his shoulder, or the glow of pride on his father's face. His eyes studied his students' pleading faces.

"You can ask anybody on campus, Professor," Kate stated emphatically. "I mean, your classes are always the first to fill at registration time. I had to trade favors with, like, five people, and this is my second attempt at getting into this class. Don't listen to Kyle. Listen to us. Don't leave."

"You can't quit now, Professor," Luke finished. "Please stay."

Charlie met each gaze, then nodded solemnly. "All right. I'll stay."


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three 

Don crept into the classroom and claimed a seat nearest the door, slouching down slightly so he would remain unseen. His eyes scanned the room briefly, taking in the eager and interested faces of each student before coming to a stop on one that stood out. The young man was frowning slightly at his notes, then up at the professor, who was presently diagramming a particularly complex equation on the board. Don figured that this student had to be the infamous 'Kyle' he had heard about.

Turning his gaze to Charlie, Don was pleased to note that the uncertainty and reserved mood that had been hanging over the young man's head was nothing more than a memory as he explained exactly what it was he had just written. There was no doubt about it; Charlie was very much in his element, and anyone watching him could tell. His love for math was clearly infectious, if the probing questions from his class were any indication.

The impromptu meeting that had been held a few days ago seemed to have worked wonders on his little brother. Charlie had returned to CalSci more self-confident than before, ready, it seemed, to take on the world. Don knew from a few sources that Charlie had finally conferred with the dean and Kyle, but he had yet to talk to his brother about the outcome. Don was hoping to rectify that as soon as Charlie finished wrapping up his lesson.

The young professor glanced at his watch, then clasped his hands together. "Looks like we're out of time for today. Continue practicing some of the problems on this page for homework, and we'll go over them next week."

Don observed the rise in chatter among the students as they collected their bags and stood. Several students stopped by Charlie's desk to ask a few questions, but didn't stay long. The last student at Charlie's desk, to Don's surprise, was none other than Kyle himself.

Charlie and Kyle spoke in low terms, but in the emptying classroom, their voices carried over to Don's seat, and he could clearly hear every word spoken.

" . . . so this number is actually a constant then?" Kyle was asking.

Charlie nodded. "That's right. You factor it in here-," he pointed at something on Kyle's book, "- and the rest of the equation works itself out."

Kyle nodded. "I see now. Thanks, Professor. Same time on Monday?"

Charlie grinned at him. "See you then."

He watched his student leave, then was about to turn his attention to his blackboard when a movement in the back of the room startled him. He looked back and was surprised to see Don rising from a chair. "Don! What are you doing here?"

"I heard some rumors around campus that there was this math professor everyone wanted to take, and I had to come see what the fuss was all about for myself," Don teased lightly. He nodded at the door. "That was him?"

Charlie nodded, ignoring his brother's comment. "That was Kyle."

"I take it your conference went well then?" Don pressed.

"Not at first," Charlie admitted, gathering several books in a pile. "I told Dean Edminton about our meeting on Wednesday, and she was there when he showed. He wasn't too happy about it; kept trying to say nothing was wrong."

"What changed it?" Don wanted to know.

Charlie shrugged. "I guess when he realized we weren't about to let him worm his way out of an explanation. He finally admitted that he felt embarrassed when I singled him out, and thought that I was doing it just for that reason. We finally straightened everything out, and now we meet three times a week for extra tutoring to help him out. He's really a bright student, but his lack of attention in class put him behind the others."

Don nodded, helping Charlie heft some of the many textbooks and walking with him into the hall. "I'm glad everything worked out for you, Buddy."

Charlie smiled beatifically, eyes fixed firmly on the hall before him. "Me too."

THE END

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTES, CONT'D

I could just hear the flames in my head and figured I'd try and head some of them off. As I stated in the beginning, I went through an experience nearly identical to this. The person that I dealt with was nothing but kind and helpful to my face. When I figured everything was all right, I would hear reports from my coworkers about how this person was bad-mouthing me to them. It didn't make much sense to me, and it still doesn't. Fortunately, it all worked out in the end, but not before causing me several weeks of serious stress. I hope you enjoyed this story!


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